Living as a civilized person felt truly strange. Compared to the tense lifestyle of most other creatures, the advantages given by tools and home-making truly made it unfair. No wonder humans would one day become the dominant species on Earth.
Ah, but that was still a fair few years into the future. Specifically, around 23 million years. The clock was ticking, and fast. Not that I really had any specific tasks that needed to be done until then. All I really had to do was pull myself together and prepare for any eventuality. I don’t actually remember the exact things I wanted to do once I met humans, but I’m sure Michael will take care of all that. Until then, I will simply focus on the here and now.
Alright. It's even colder now.
I’m not even sure why it’s getting colder. Nobody tells me anything. Ah, not that I want to know everything. I want to learn, of course, but knowing everything holds no value in itself. Thus, I want to learn. Simple as that.
The Paleogene era came and passed, leaving space for the Neogene period. The very last period before the modern rise of man. I would need to savour it.
Still, even though I understand that mammals and birds are still evolving to take the places of my dearly beloved dinosaurs, seeing these hairy creatures actually do so just feels perverted. Seeing birds in the sky instead of pterosaurs feels weird even after so many millions of years.
Likewise, being in the bodies of these creatures feels especially strange.
The years tick by like clockwork. It’s hard to believe only five million years remain before year zero. Three million years or before the first species of the hominid subcategory will begin appearing.
I honestly do not want to meet any of them. Homo habilis and homo erectus both seem like human-ish apes. They do not interest me. In reality, if they’re anything like the apes I’ve met, they probably won’t like me. As such, I’ll just keep to my policy.
That said, there are two species I would like to meet. Firstly, the neanderthals. I need to mingle with them, to find if they are more intelligent than humans, which they very well might be (unlike literally all other hominids). If that is the case, I will make an attempt to let them survive extinction, if only to see the chaos that ensues.
Secondly, I want to meet homo floresiensis.
As far as I can tell, they are almost as intelligent as humans, with one of few differences being their size. They are tiny. About 1,1 meters tall. They also live on islands (island?) so their contact with other hominids is pretty much nought. This is also what caused their minuscule size. I think meeting such creatures would be both funny and educational.
I make a mental note to Michael, informing him of these plans. And then, off I go.
Three million years have passed. I remain completely disconnected from any hominids. Out of sight, out of mind. Azrael makes sure I don’t appear anywhere near them, which sadly means I rarely find myself born in Africa. Oh well. More interestingly, there are now very few creatures that did not exist during my time as a mortal. Mammoths still walk the earth which makes me very happy, but many other creatures have gone extinct, including one whose meat was very tasty.
Though, that doesn’t mean I can’t experience tasty foods. As it turns out, anything with a nose and a tongue has a sense for what’s tasty or not. To a canine, the smell of prey smells good, even though it would be revolting as a human. Same with fresh blood and meat. If it’s edible and nourishing, the body finds it appealing. This means that even as a dinosaur, I never had any true lack of good food. It just wasn’t ever on the same level as what I had as a human. Oh well.
Two million more years pass, and Michael starts pointing me towards my goal. Only two hundred thousand years remain. By now, that’s barely a blip in time.
I’ve been able to relax for millions of years, living absently as animals and creatures. Now I must be a man once more. It is thrilling, yet terrifying. I try to hype myself up.
A hundred thousand years have passed. It feels like I’m waiting to attend an interview, my every nerve on edge.
Finally, the last hundred thousand years pass, and I find myself in the spot where I need to be.
I am on the border between Europe and Asia (both of whom now have their characteristic shapes all of a sudden), right on the edge of Africa. There, I stand anxious, holding the form of a fox. Not a fox-like creature or anything like that, just a regular fox. They’ve been around for a while, but they’re pretty recent here in Eurasia. Still… I am quite nervous.
Even squatting here in these hiding bushes, I feel very exposed. Soon there will be people here. Not pure humans, of course, but still. I trust Michael. They will be here.
And yet, I feel like running away. In this form, doing so would be easy. But I can’t. It would be much too cowardly after much too many years of waiting for this.
There is a sound.
My ears press themselves flat against my head as I press myself closer to the ground. Voices reach me. Yes, voices. They sound remarkably human-like. I try to recall the time period. They began straying from the prior evolutionary path and becoming pure neanderthals around fifty thousand years ago. I cannot know how they will act, and so, I hide.
They step into view.
How remarkable. My ears rise to stand erect and attentive. Yes, they are very much alike humans. They speak a language that I obviously do not understand, but beyond that, very little about them tells me they are not pure humans. They wear clothes, after all. All members present, which includes males, females and children, carry weapons such as well-crafted bows and spears.
Their bodies are larger and broader than normal humans, while their brows are pronounced alongside their strong jaws. Alike the common perception, their arms are strangely long and muscular. Unlike the common perception, they walk with their backs straight, eyes gleaming with an intelligence I have not seen matched by any other creature in many millions of years. Yes, these are hominids. Creatures intelligent enough to do as they please.
I consider my possible courses of action.
There are many things I can do, but in the end, I decide to simply follow them at a distance. Despite their overwhelmingly good eyes, spotting a fox in a forest is next to impossible, especially with their other senses being too dull.
A glance my way freezes me in place. The woman says something to the man walking next to her. He replies with something relaxing before urging her to continue. At least, that is what it seems they are talking about. In other words, I succeed in following them.
The group I follow consists of around 9 members: four men, three women and two children. They speak carefully among each other, using language that seems quite elaborate. I suppose I will need to learn it at some point. Ah, this is making my stomach hurt.
Two of the male members in the back are carrying a red deer. It looks tasty, but I’m not about to attack them for that. I just need to pull myself together first.
Though, since they’ve got prey already, that would mean they’re heading back to camp, and not out for hunting. This is good for me since watching them would be dull.
While they walk and talk, I try my best to understand what they’re saying and make out words, but it’s hard. If I want to learn their language, I will definitely need one of them to help me. Ah, what a bother.
Soon enough, we reach what seems to be their base: namely, a large cave. Makes sense.
The hunters are welcomed by those already within the cave. Hugs abound. The deer is quickly removed from its carriers and brought over to a slightly older man with a sharp flint knife. So far those I’ve seen are either somewhat young, older teenagers or young adults, but this man is actually rather old, almost middle-aged. He begins disembowelling and skinning the animal, so I guess that means he’s the butcher of the tribe. A younger man watches him do this, so I suppose he might be an apprentice of some sort.
The sun is only halfway down so there’s still a lot of time on the day. Around half of the hunting party set out one more, with most of them carrying baskets. Gatherers, then. I could probably follow them if I wanted to, but I have no such interest. Instead, I watch the group here. There are around 20 or so people in the cave. Five among these are children, counting those who have now returned.
Ah, said two kids have now taken a seat outside the mouth of the cave to play with sticks and things. How quaint.
The butcherer also sits outside the cave, working deftly on the deer. His skill is almost impressive, but my attention is on the children.
I have a plan. I just need to take a human form first.
While the butcherer begins butchering the deer, his apprentice begins working on the intestines, removing the excrement from inside it and washing it out with some water. Meanwhile, the other members from the hunting group get to working on other stuff; one group splinters off to tend to a large fire just outside the cave, another begins working on the skinned hide to tan it, yet another begins sharpening their weapons, rubbing it with small sheets of leather. How hard-working they are.
I can’t help but notice that one of the hunters, a man who has taken a rather deep wound likely from the horns of the deer, is being tended to in a rather lacklustre manner. They’re using a sort of vine and leaf combination to manufacture a make-shift bandage for the wound. However, since the leaf hasn’t been tempered enough, I can already tell the wound will grow infected within a few weeks. Depending on various factors, it may very well lead to his untimely death.
Even worse, the vine they’re using, though not directly toxic or anything like that, is one that has a very sweet-smelling scent that easily draws many insects; vectors of disease. Such a combination of plants, though seemingly effective in the short run, will be deeply damaging later on.
How primitive. Though, considering the nearby flora, it isn’t surprising that they have been unable to find any better alternative yet.
Oh well.
As time passes slowly, I watch them attentively, trying to put their faces to mind. Maybe if I had befriended some apes this wouldn’t have been so hard. I learnt to tell the faces of dinosaurs apart easily. These hominids, however. They look extremely similar. I can barely tell the women from the men. The children are easier since they’re short.
Evening approaches.
The gathering party returns safely without having lost anyone, though one of the women seems to have been lightly injured from a poisonous plant. In respect of this, the others don’t force her to carry any of the baskets filled with various foraged herbs, mushrooms and plants. Yes, those will surely nourish them well.
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Apart from that poisonous berry they’ve got.
There aren’t too many, but it’s enough so that one could make half a bottle of jam with it. I’m not sure why they brought it back. Sure, it’s only mildly poisonous, but if you eat too many over several years it’ll definitely shorten your lifespan significantly as the poison accumulates.
I can think of two reasons why they would bring it with them. Firstly, they don’t know it’s poisonous yet since the effects have yet to be seen in any of their members. Secondly, they’re going to do what I would have done and crush it before removing the poison-carrying shells. That way, you can still eat the flesh without consuming the poison. If I remember my time as a mouse-like creature right, the flesh was actually pretty tasty.
I watch the gatherers be welcomed back warmly.
They waste no time beginning to prepare the gathered greens for whatever’s for dinner. Most of the ingredients are prepared at least somewhat correctly with only a few mistakes, none of which would cause any major injury or sickness. Sadly, that does not stay true for the poisonous berries, which are being dumped into a large pot with little to no regard.
I could just let it go. It doesn’t really matter if this small tribe dies or if it survives. If anything, this is what survival of the fittest means. That’s all there is to it. I hold no loyalty to these. Whether I meet neanderthals now or at a later date is unimportant. Really, if this is how they choose to die, then I hold no say in their decision. I’m a mere outsider. Nothing less. Nothing more.
I watch them with a careful gaze.
The attention of the cooks wavers for an instant.
Like a suddenly loosened arrow, I burst forth from the brushes, my juvenile body moving faster than any human here can move. Within seconds I am between the cooks, the berries at my feet. I try not to look at how immense their bodies are compared to my small fox-body. Instead, I let my mind race in circles on what to do with the berries now that I’m here. Had they all been attached to a twig I would have been able to run away with them in my mouth. Had they been fewer I could swiftly crush them or otherwise taint them.
Time begins moving again as exclamations of surprise erupt around me.
I have no choice.
I press my tiny paws into the berries, hopping around and stomping them as best as I can. Though I have no time to look at the facial expressions of the hominids around me, I figure they must be of astonishment.
Within only a few seconds the whole pile of berries are crushed to a fine, dirty pulp, leaving my paws wet and slick with juices.
I can only barely breathe a sigh of relief before a hand takes my neck in a vice-like grip and hoists me off the ground. I’m brought before the furious face of what I think might be a female. She barks a series of words at me, all the while shaking me back and forth like a ragdoll. It’s almost like she’s chastising a puppy that chewed up a shoe or something. Except for the fact that I’m a juvenile fox and she could easily crush my neck if she wanted to. I’m terrified and all I can do is press my ears flat and hide my tail beneath my berry-soaked legs.
Slowly, other people begin inching closer, talking gently among each other, apparently trying to calm down the woman shaking me. Eventually, she turns to the man closest to her, putting her attention there instead of on me. This makes her stop shaking me, which is nice. I was really starting to grow dizzy there.
They talk back and forth a few times and I’m not sure why I haven’t been decapitated yet.
After a while, the guy turns to me, smiles, and grabs me. I’m too scared to even attempt to run or escape. Surprisingly, the guy holds me very gently, as though he’s trying to see if I’ll run or stay. I stay.
He holds me kind of the same way you hold a momentarily calm cat you know could try to scratch and flee at any moment. He coos soft words at me. I think he might be saying something like, There there, but I can’t really know. I just stay still. Trying very hard to calm down.
Finally, he turns his eyes away from me and to everyone else. He says something and they seem to relax somewhat. In this brief moment of calm, the two kids who had been playing until now and three other kids run up to me and the guy holding me, each of them blabbering about something, holding out their hands and arms expectantly. I’m not sure what they want, but in response, the guy holding me carefully tells them something, in that classic way you tell kids what to do and what not to do.
Then, he hands me over to one of the kids.
I’m in the arms of the one which seems to be the oldest one. She’s looking at me like I’m the world. While the other children flock around her, she begins gently caressing my head and back.
Oh. Oh. This is. Goodness gracious me.
I’ve been caressing and petting creatures for millions of years but only now has someone caressed me back. This is. This is beyond anything I could ever have considered. Fantastic. Absolutely amazing. This is the best thing. Unconsciously, a purring, happy sound escapes my throat. My fluffy tail beats back and forth joyously.
Man. Even if these people kill me after they’ve had their fun petting me, I guess it’s okay.
As a matter of fact, the butcher and his apprentice are coming over now. He looks me up and down, carefully taking my dimensions to mind. He pets my belly a little. Then he shrugs, literally says, “Eh,” and spins on his heel. Huh. Maybe I won’t be killed after all. The kids continue petting me though so I really don’t mind.
Then, a woman approaches the children. She seems a little older than most, and if I remember correctly she was one of the people mending wounds. A shaman, perhaps. She says something to the children, prompting all of them to pout and groan, whimpering about this or that. Ah. I’m dying after all. Very well then.
However, that does not happen.
Instead, the kids all carry me over to the border between the clear area around the cave and the forest beyond. There, they put me down. Huh.
They make sounds, all the while waving me off. As though they’re trying to let me go.
I look back to the forest and then back at them. It would seem they have no intention of killing me. However, returning to the forest now would be antithetical to my goals.
I skip back into the oldest girl’s arms, rubbing my head against her chest and shoulders. A few of the nearby adults seem alarmed, but once they notice I’m not trying to maul her and my tail is, in fact, wagging, they instead seem curious. The girl who gently closes her arms around me seems equally surprised. Her voice trembles a little when she speaks, saying strange things. Well, I don't know what she’s saying, so I just ignore it.
She continues petting me. This makes me very happy.
She stands again, holding me in her arms. However, if she’s holding me she can’t help with what the adults seem to want her help with (mainly cooking), so I carefully crawl up her arm to curl around her shoulders and neck. Aha. No need to walk anymore. How luxurious. The girl who will now be my host - apparently - seems very excited about this, and every other person she runs into has to be manually shown to me. By which I mean that she points at me, says “Mi unginhi wat sor!” and then beams as only a proud child can. The person she shows me to always seems both apprehensive and impressed. Like, “It’s cool you managed to put a fox on your shoulders, but can you be sure it won’t maul you?”
A, speaking of foxes, I’m starting to think “Ungin” is the neanderthal word for “fox”. She’s been saying it a lot while pointing at me, so it’s all I can think of.
After a little while of running around, the adults finally realize she’s not going to calm down, so instead, they let her go off and play with the younger kids. She seems excited and so am I. Well, I haven’t played a single game ever since this all happened so I’m quite interested in what they’ve got.
She brings me to the other kids who coo over me for a few minutes before one of them makes what I think is a suggestion. They repeat the word “Ungin” a lot, all the while pointing at me.
Then, as though having made up their minds, they grin at each other before carefully putting me on the ground. I’m not sure what’s happening, but the girl suddenly says “Ti.” I’m not sure what it means so I stare at her. She frowns. Shit. She points at one of the other kids and says “Ti”, at which he sits down. Ah. That’s how it is, then. She points at me again. “Ti.” I sit down. The kids beam at each other before throwing themselves at me and petting me. Yes, yes, I’m a very clever fox. Pet me more, thank you.
Suddenly, while they’re petting me, the butcher shouts something at me. It doesn’t sound very angry though. More like he’s explaining something and they’re too far away to talk normally.
After a little while of explaining things, he cuts something in his hand to pieces before handing it to his apprentice. The apprentice then scrambles over to the kids, handing them a handful of something sweet-smelling. Hm. She tells me to sit again, but I’m already sitting so it’s not like there’s much I can do. She frowns for a second before realizing her error. She quickly points a little distance off before saying “Her ti.” I assume she wants me to go over there and sit, so I do so.
The other kids clap happily and I fight the urge to take a bow. The oldest girl chortles before saying, “Cet!”
I don’t really understand it, but considering that she’s waving a little something, I head over to her. She gives me a small cut piece of liver. She smiles at me while I slurp down the tasty thing. The quality of liver usually depends a lot on the diet of the creature, but this liver tastes just fine so I eat it greedily.
Since she has plenty more to go around, she, the other kids and myself spend a fair amount of time doing tricks. By the end of it, once all the treats are gone, I’ve learnt the words for “Sit,” “Go there,” “Come,” “Lie,” “Jump,” “Run,” “Roll,” and many others. However, the most interesting were the names of the kids. The youngest was “Rite” and his two brothers were “Till” and “Rungo Bungo.” The girl who I may now call my master is “Cinn,” with the other girl being “Ai.” At first, I could barely tell the difference between them, but after being forced to run between them constantly I was very aware of which was which.
Even more so, after a while, they even began teaching me the names and faces of other people in the tribe. The butcher was called Yirk while his apprentice was Ger. The older woman who had caught me the first time was Jiu.
I tried hard to put their names to mind alongside learning the language.
Once dinner - a stew - was made, everyone gathered around the fire to eat. Tales were told, people talked, and a lot of eyes were trained on me. Maybe they thought I would, like, try to steal food or something, but I didn’t. Instead, almost as soon as food was made, the butcher handed me waste produce - small pieces of innards and whatever even they wouldn’t eat. I ate my fill rather quickly. I spent the rest of the time curled up in the lap of Cinn, listening carefully to what she was saying to people. Since I knew she would undoubtedly tell them about our activities, I already had a sort of template for what she might say.
The sun soon fell and people finished their dinner. During the few hours between dinner and sleep, most people spent their time crafting, sharpening weapons and the like. Personally, I was stuck with Cinn, since she had already gone to bed, crushing me close to her as she did so. However, although I was interested in sleeping (as all creatures are), I had more things to be worried about.
So, I snaked out of her grasp in the dead of the night while most everyone had gone to bed and headed over to the smouldering pyres of the dying fire. There, a pair of men sat silently, eyes focused on the brushes a few paces down.
I hopped only a log one of them sat on, making him jump a fair bit into the air before turning to me. He seemed a little scared but otherwise relaxed once he realized it was just me.
“Ungin… Ret ungin,” he said. Not sure what it means, but I slot the word Ret into my mind as a possible curse word.
The reason I’ve decided to join these is simple enough. My ears and eyes are far better suited for holding lookout than these hominids, and hence I am a much better lookout than they are. My ear twitches. Right now, I am around 9 months old. I should become an adult in 2 or three months considering how bountiful my current development is.
As I sit there, all of a sudden, a hand falls on my back. I twitch and turn to look a the person next to me, who’s now looking in the opposite direction. Yup. Nothing to see here.
Ah. So that’s what he wants.
With a small sound, I lie down, pressing my tiny body next to him. Basically screaming that I trust him.
For a while, he doesn’t dare to touch me. But, after some time…
He begins gently caressing my fur. Ah, yeah, that’s the stuff. After a little while, he pokes my head. I crack an eye open. He points at himself before saying “Hatte,” a few times. It’s probably his name. Alright, you’re Hatte. I guess I’ll put your face to mind.
Morning rolls around, but before Cinn can wake up I crawl into her arms. As I thought, companionship really is great. She wakes up and I curl myself around her neck and shoulders while she gets ready for the day. It seems the whole group usually forms into three groups, two to go out hunting and one to stay in the cave and keep it safe. A few among those who stay home are wounded or have roles too important to lose, such as the butcher and herbalist.
Cinn is sent out hunting alongside the adults and children. It feels a bit barbaric that she should be forced to engage in such dangerous activities, but when you haven’t got much of a choice, you’ll take whoever’s able.
Luckily, since she’s small and weak, she’s tasked with a bow and not any melee instruments.
Still, just having her out in the dangerous woods here makes me a bit stressed. And so, I hop off her shoulders. She cries out to me as I bolt into the woods, but the others keep her from following me. I have a good reason for doing this. Yes, while they walk along paths and through the woods, I run adjutant to them, keeping my eyes and ears out. And then, when I spot a red deer, I return to the group.
“Ungin!” Cinn exclaims, face lighting up in joy and relief. I ignore her and take on the stance of a bloodhound, pointing my nose in the direction of the deer. After exchanging a few glances, some of the hunters nervously follow me, until they too see the deer.
Suffice it to say, they were able to catch it.
This seemed to set a precedent since I was now very useful to them. This meant whenever they went out hunting I would join them, helping them catch various prey or even escape larger predators. By my own insistence, I was also able to follow along during gatherings, where I would point them towards edible foods. Of course, when they weren’t looking I spent much effort destroying any poisonous herbs and berries.
As my value increased, so did I get better food. Cinn played with me often, and I was very happy since I was useful to the group.
Even after only a single month in their care, I had decided on my future action.
I would not save their species. It was impossible and would change the course of history too much. Their species would meld with homo sapiens soon enough so even if I didn’t save them they would survive. However, more importantly, they would be granted souls.
The matter of the afterlife has actually been a little bit of a standstill for these past 250 million years or so. Around 200 000 souls were collected during the time I was on Earth before I turned back time. These souls are currently in a loop of reincarnation, having their memories scrubbed every time they take a new form. In that sense, they are much alike me. Though, currently, these humans would hold the forms of hominids. This is just because I believe their souls will be better suited to those forms.
I would like to give these souls some form of advantage, but in the end I can’t really come up with anything that wouldn’t make my game here too obvious.
The afterlife.
Yes, I will grant souls unto neanderthals. They are sentient enough, I suppose. Very little in their behaviour is inhuman. As a matter of fact, the only obvious thing is their appearance. Otherwise, they act very human.
I doubt many will have any want or need to remain in the afterlife for long, but if they do, I guess they’ll want to meet their ancestors and things. I really should have given them souls earlier, but oh well. Better late than never.
Now then. Back to the present.
For the past month or so, I have made good progress with the language. Of course, holding a conversation is far beyond me, but I’m nonetheless somewhat able to understand them. Their language has a rather simple layout, so it’s much easier than most modern languages. Mostly I just need to know what every word is and I can then place them in a sentence pretty haphazardly.
Learning words has been done in two different ways. Firstly, I listen to and observe the people. When they point to things and say words, I take note. When they greet each other I take note. When they leave to go hunt I take note of their farewells.
However, my most effective teacher was Cinn.
She taught me many tricks, each more complex than the last. With my new language-understanding skills I was able to hear that a large part as to why she’s allowed to keep me is since they heard from another tribe they had met once about how the leader of yet another tribe had tamed a wolf. Hence, they believed she might be able to do something similar. Of course, I let her do so. It made my position in the tribe more obvious and, more importantly, it made her teach me tricks.
Walk, run, go, come… Such words were taught to me by her. I forced her hand slightly since I made a large show of wanting to learn new tricks.
Thus, when shit went down, my language skills were at least half-baked.
It happened at night.